


Broken Glass

by justapunkrockho



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:10:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11863524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justapunkrockho/pseuds/justapunkrockho
Summary: Delphine contemplates mortality after being banished to Frankfurt. Headcanon inspired by the secret files of Delphine Cormier, taking place post 2x10.





	Broken Glass

She sat alone in the sterile apartment. The scotch in her glass was not her first of the night, but the strong liquor did little to quell her dread.

It had been only five days since she landed in Frankfurt, but it felt as though months had passed. Fear made time slow to an excruciating pace, every second spent anticipating the unknown. She was told to remain in the apartment until further notice, so she waited. Ever the dutiful DYAD employee, she waited and waited and waited. 

But she hated herself for it. 

She had been naïve to think of herself as the shark, the predator in control. Every calculated move, every decision seemed so perfect as a part of her grand scheme, but Delphine had been the prey all along, and Rachel the great white, ultimately swallowing her whole.

Her choices had seemed so limited at the time. Stay and risk her own demise and that of her love, or leave and pray that the shark had bigger problems than the small brunette wasting away in DYAD’s old wing. She reasoned that her quick acquiescence was for Cosima’s sake, for her safety, but solitude led her to question this logic. The isolation sent her into a tailspin as her mind screamed with unanswered questions. Did she truly leave out of love or had she left to save her own skin? Was she a monster?

Without a definitive answer, she nursed her heavy heart with a large sip of scotch.

She agreed to get on the flight to Frankfurt and spare her lover, yet with that agreement came the crushing reality that Cosima’s illness would continue to eat away at her life. Except now she was thousands of miles away, drowning her liver in expensive DYAD liquor, rather than searching for a cure. What if she had fought harder to stay? Could she have convinced Rachel that her presence in Toronto was vital without endangering Cosima?

Another drink.

_No,_ she reasoned. This was the only way. _But was it?_ Cosima could be face down in a pool of her own blood this very moment, and she would have no idea. She would be unable to save her.

The thought alone caused a gut wrenching sob to echo around the empty room.

Five days. 

Her phone sat abandoned on the empty kitchen table, as silent as ever. No messages, no calls, no emails. Did Cosima receive her last desperate attempt to help? A schedule with one shot at helping Sarah. Was it enough? 

She had to believe that the answer was yes. It was the only thought that kept her alive. 

_Cosima is smart,_ she thought. _She will find a way to survive._

But would Delphine? DYAD’s _Wunderkind,_ once the multi-national’s pride and joy, now confined to what may very well be a death sentence. Her mind raced with thoughts that had plagued her since childhood. It had been so long since the sinking feeling overtook her, but the white walls of the empty apartment were all too familiar.

It was this level of isolation so many years ago that forced a young Delphine to confront her own mortality, an incident she had fought hard to forget. _But repressing does not always mean forgetting,_ she thought, as the scotch danced across her tongue.

It was so easy to ignore the pain she endured in school as her career took off. Being recruited by one of the leading names in immunosciences just out of a PhD program kept her mind busy, and busy was good. Busy meant progress. Busy meant no time to dwell on the past. She used busy as a tool to succeed. If busy kept her parents happy and her mind occupied, then busy she would stay. She kept busy with science and men who were all too easy to bring to bed, but ultimately never pleased her. It became an easy routine. 

But with continual preoccupation comes the eventual crash. The brain can only stay silent for so long, and right now, she was stagnant. Without forward motion, her mind screamed out every fear and insecurity and doubt that she had ignored over the past few weeks. Maybe she was a shark after all. The predator in her had always needed movement, needed momentum to survive. 

Five days she had been floating, sinking, hovering in and out of consciousness. It was too much.

On shaky legs, she rose from the bed, setting down her now empty glass in favor of the nearly empty bottle. She dragged herself across the room, taking a quick swig of the amber liquid. The bathroom was as sterile and cold as the rest of the apartment. She reached the sink, and the blinding white marble was cold to the touch. Instantly, she was transported back to the night in Felix’s loft. 

She remembered waking early the morning after, stretching her long limbs out like a cat on Sunday morning. Turning her head to the side, she took in the view of her Cosima. She was so small curled up underneath the covers, her hand wrapped around Delphine’s stomach like she was afraid the other woman would flee before dawn. She was so vulnerable, and the thought pulled at her wary heart strings. Could the beautiful woman lying against her feel the love that practically lept out of her chest? 

_Love._

She could not think of any other word that truly encapsulated the scope of her feelings for Cosima. It was ridiculous to think that she had become so enamored with this woman in such a short period of time, but the attraction was undeniable. It was more passionate than lust and deeper than basic chemistry. _Mon amour,_ she whispered, testing the words on her tongue. 

_Yes._

She could not deny how deeply she had fallen, just how she could not deny her fear. Cosima trusted her enough to bring her to bed, but when she wakes? When they are thrust back into the web of lies that Delphine herself had spun? She did not want to imagine a life where her heart was no longer filled with warm, cheeky grins and mornings like this, but would Cosima trust her again?

Cosima stirred against the blonde’s gentle strokes on her arm, turning away but still keeping her body pressed against warm skin. Delphine whispered the romantic confession once more into Cosima’s braids before heading through the bohemian beads to the bathroom. 

Her fingers brushed against the sink, the cold surface sending shivers down her spine. The mirror was flecked with paint and the usual wear-and-tear, but that did little to hide her reflection. Behind the reflective surface sat a woman Delphine could not recognize.

When was the last time she felt happy? 

_Happy._ That wasn’t a word that often fell into her vocabulary. Previously, she had come to accept that true happiness was unattainable. She decided that a past so grim could not possibly allow happiness later in life, but in the mirror stood a woman who was undeniably happy. Happier than before, at least. Ruffled, messy curls, red blotches across her neck that would soon darken in shade, markings of passion, wild eyes filled with desire. 

_What had changed?_ Her heart answered the question before her brain had a chance to catch up. Her answer was lying in bed, tangled in maroon sheets. She didn’t believe that Cosima had magically fixed the damage that lingered to this day, but she also knew that this woman was the embodiment of life she once thought impossible. Cosima was her hope. 

And she would not let this hope die.

Her eyes locked with those of the stranger in the mirror. _You will not let her die, even if you must break her heart, you cannot let her die._

And so it was settled.

The tired, hazel eyes shut quickly, a sharp inhale later and she was on the floor. Broken glass scattered around her feet, along with what little liquor was left. She shook off the stupor in search of warm sun falling onto the soft body she had once been determined to memorize.

But she was met with emptiness, an empty room with empty walls and a heart without hope. 

Because her heart was back in Toronto.

This was the thought that finally broke her. Violent sobs cracked open the dam that had been concealing her pain for five long days. How could she protect Cosima when she couldn’t even protect herself? The broken glass in her hand clinked against the tile as her tired form slumped against the bathtub.

_It’s not a razor, but it will get the job done,_ a voice whispered. The thought was fleeting, but it was jarring enough to make her glance down at scars she knew no longer existed. It had been so long, but the helplessness she felt now was not foreign.

The glass felt cold against her wrist. She felt like she was sixteen all over again, sitting in the bathtub, her mind and body seemingly detached, feeling completely out of touch with reality. She remembered how overwhelmed she had been with the pressure to succeed, the pressure to make her parents proud. She remembered the devastation, the humiliation, the fear.

This horrible ultimatum in Frankfurt was not the first time she had been backed into a corner. She was a child from whom people expected so much. She lacked the life experience to place the situation into perspective, and even now her brain struggled to fight the urge to give up. The slipping feeling was all too familiar, the loss of control. 

But this time it was different.

This time she did not fear death, rather she feared losing the woman who had given new purpose to her work, to her life. She was not sixteen in the south of France, completely alone and without direction. This time she had something to live for. 

The bottle fell from her strained hand. Staggering slightly, she clung to the tub as she attempted to stand, narrowly avoiding the shards of glass that were strewn about the floor. The apartment was still empty and the walls were still painfully cold, but she knew this would not be her end, not without a fight.

She reached her phone just as an email came through, the intrusive buzzing sound making her jump.

_There has been an incident at DYAD. Your presence is needed as interim director of the corporation. I will fill you in on the plane. – Marion_

While her vision was impaired, she was able to comprehend the shifting situation. _What incident?_ Her heartrate rose in response to the vague statement. _Did Cosima have another seizure?_ She swallowed the fear and bile that rose in her throat at the thought of her love not being there when she returned.

_No, she is okay. She must be._

She was going back, and that was what mattered. She would prove her worth to Cosima and fix the mess she had made before being exiled. Five days of silence and suddenly her presence was requested. The realization dawned on her. She would not die at the hands of a DYAD henchman, or by her own hand, for that matter. 

It was not her time to go. She had made a promise, and Delphine intended to follow through. The Leda sisters needed protection and Cosima needed a cure. 

Typing out a slow response, she confirmed her commitment to the company, reinvigorated with a sense of urgency to return, to make things right. This was not the end, not for her, and not for Cosima. 

_I will save her, or I will die trying._

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick one-shot inspired by some discourse I saw surrounding Delphine's confirmed thoughts of suicide in her secret files. Mostly this is just me projecting onto characters as I go through major Orphan Black withdrawl. Let me know what you think.


End file.
